Fraek
02-20-2005, 01:44 PM
For ten days and twice as many nights had Laura travelled by ship to her new haven – Newhaven. She did not know why she had travelled there or how she had gotten her hands on the ship in question, but she did not care much.
He was hiding behind a communist as she got off the boat. Then, when she boarded the boat again, he rapidly disassembled the communist and then ran up to maim the lady seafarer.
Newhaven was a remote village just in the centre of three great cities, to which it was connected by a complicated network of ski lifts. Laura hoped that life would prove peaceful in this here village, but she was gravely mistaken…
Out of nowhere leaped a Dark Elf, who bit her in the nose and kicked her in the left kidney (conveniently, space-time’s curvature caused the kidney to be on the Dark Elf’s left as well as Laura’s). Laura fell to the ground and lay there for two minutes. Paralysed she thereafter got back up on her feet.
“Who…?” Laura began to ask, but was interrupted by the Dark Elf’s gentle words.
“DIE!”
“Ah! Please do not hurt me again!” Laura yelled.
“All right, show me your toes!” the Dark Elf compelled.
“M-my toes? W-what for?” Laura stuttered.
“Show me your toes or I shall hurt you!” explained the Dark Elf, screaming in a rather purple manner. “You just be careful! I’m warning you…”
“Oh, yes yes as you wish,” said Laura and took off her last shoe to the left.
The Dark Elf gasped. “So you are the bearer of toes!”
“The what?” Laura implored.
“It is of no importance…” the Dark Elf uttered.
“Tell me!” Laura commanded.
“I am not a slave to she who bears the toes,” the Dark Elf explained, “or vice versa.
But be wary that around any corner, under any horse, somebody may be waiting, and that somebody may be me!” The Dark Elf walked away and disappeared mysteriously.
Laura got off the ship and was assaulted once more by the Dark Elf, who had been hiding behind some boxes. The Dark Elf laughed and ran off. Laura saw him fitting a key into a keyhole (something which she had noticed had become a rapidly growing trend) of a large wooden gate, and then passing through the gate. The gate shut (as is the nature of gates) and a clicking noise assured her that the Dark Elf had locked the gate.
Laura was puzzled. It seemed that the small port was just outside of the village walls, and that the gate was some mode of passage between the village’s outside and its’ inside.
Also on the village’s outside was a small stone house.
Suddenly a voice boomed inside Laura’s head. “Seek the key, for it is the key!” She recognized the voice: It belonged to the Dark Elf!
Driven by female intuition and possibly that sign that said “Get your gate keys here!”, Laura turned her buttocks the opposite direction from the stone house and started making her way in the direction opposite to the direction in which her buttocks were pointing. She entered the house, got a key from the Giver of Keys and exited the building, her inventory’s mass having increased by 10%, which didn’t matter much as she kept her belongings in an incorporeal bag of holding.
The booming voice inside her head spoke to her once more: “The gate is the gate to the place that the gate leads to! Open the gate and the gate shall open!”
“AHA!” exclaimed the Dark Elf, who was waiting be, “So it is true!”
“Is what true?” Laura asked.
“The lady who bears purple shall use her toes to obtain the keys to the gate!”
“If you mean walking then yeah…”
“Then it is just as the forlorn prophets propheted in the days of prophetic prophecies!
It is said that the one dressed in purple shall walk to the house, obtain a key, and open the gate to the place that the gate leads to…”
Laura pushed him aside and ran like a girl, which she was.
“WAIT!” the Dark Elf shouted, but Laura did not seem to care.
“THE LIFE OF THE KEYGIVER IS AT STAKE!”
Laura stopped dead in her tracks, but was quickly resurrected by some sort of ressurective force. She turned to look at the Dark Elf.
“Only you can save the Keygiver!”
“Who is the Keygiver?” laura asked.
“The one who gave you that key,” the Dark Elf answered.
“Who is threatening him?”
“Tell me: Wouldst thou be willing to sacrificeth thine virginity to save him?”
Laura was not a virgin, but she was not aware of this, and thus figured that this was possible. “From Death?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Laura wondered if perhaps this was the reason for which she had sent herself to Newhaven – to save the Keygiver’s life, that is, not to lose her virginity.
“I … I guess so…” she stuttered confidently.
The Dark Elf’s jaw dropped slightly.
“Ah, so it is true! It is said that the toe-bearer would be a virgin…”
The Dark Elf scratched his chin and then continued:
“Do not worry, you may keep your virginity. The Keygiver must die all the same.”
“You are confusing me,” said Laura.
“Such is the way of the order of confusors. I am not one of them, but such are their ways…”
“Bye bye,” Laura said, and walked off.
“Badgers?” the Dark Elf said questioningly. “What about badgers?”
He ran up to her and she turned to face them.
“What about them,” she asked.
“You mentioned badgers, did you not?”
“I have to say no.”
“Odd … so it is true…
Badgers rule this realm now, appearing in all different shapes, sizes and genders, and it is said that when questioned about them by a Dark Elf the virgin shall deny them…”
The “virgin” in question ran off whilst the Dark Elf was rubbing his eyelids (as Dark Elves often do when they’re trying to remember something), and the Dark Elf laughed wickedly.
Laura ran, like a feebleminded parrot she did! She ran and she ran until she found an abandoned Hobbit hole in which she hid.
Then when she figured the Dark Elf had lost her, that booming voice echoed once more in her head. “The last chairs have all but fallen, and so the bartender’s time is nigh!”
She was not quite sure what to do, but she saw a pillar of light emitting from somewhere not too far away, and she figured that this must be a sign.
In his underground lair the Badger Lord plotted his evil plots. He had once in the past been humiliated by the Shopkeeper, but before his last lair came tumbling down upon him he had managed to split the Shopkeeper in two, and alone neither of the two stood a chance against the Badger Lord. The Badger Lord neighed chippishly and breathed a heavy sigh. Soon there would be nobody who could stand in his way.
She was getting closer to the pillar of light, and she saw that it was centred on a wooden house. The booming voice seemed to be coming from there:
“Only seven stools stand in the Dark One’s way now!”
Laura ran faster, even though she could feel her energy being drained from her as juice is drained from an orange.
She entered the house and turned immediately to her right, just in time to see the Dark Elf down the bartender with his short sword. The Dark Elf laughed. He turned towards a stool which stood to his left.
“Come the death of the bartender, come the death of the eighth stool, whilst the virgin besits it!”
Laura had come close to him, and he grabbed her by her arm and forced her to sit. Having done this he swung his sword towards the chair which was reduced to splinters. Laura had no time to react on this and fell to the ground. The Dark Elf spoke onto her: “Now, virgin toe-bearer, I shalt shaveth thine head!” He laughed, but stopped abruptly and turned towards the door. “THE DOOR!” He extracted a key from his pocket and headed towards the door, but stopped a few yards from it.
“Odd…” he said, “…the door is sending out hair-growing magical rays!”
Laura tried to get past the Dark Elf, but he held her fast by her turtle-neck, and yelled straight into her face, and saliva rained horizontally on Laura’s face.
“YOU CANNOT FLEE!
Can you not see, there is a sea, with wind and waves and hard debris!
And in this sea, there is a tree, in which live the monkeys three!
The virgin bearing toes at last, must hurry there faster than fast,
for if she doesn’t her toes shall be no more, and she shall become but and endangered s’more!”
“YOU’RE A MADMAN!” screamed Laura and managed to break free of his grip and escape through the door. She was however foolish enough to leave the door open, and thus the Dark Elf could follow her, no longer hindered by hair-growing magical rays.
“WOULD A MADMAN CACKLE LOUDLY!?” he yelled. “I AM NOT MAD! THE GRASS IS MAD!”
Day had become night by that time, and the dead spirits were coming out to play. There were two new dead spirits in Newhaven, and they were drawn towards each other...
A long-haired human is no match for a toeless Dark Elf when it comes to running, and the Dark Elf caught up to Laura and pinned her down to the ground. His voice became gentle in a manic way, and he uttered the following words:
“Your necklace, it is a forge,
Your left foot, a fishing rod,
Your long hair, the death of many Gnomes,
Your every step a step in one direction!”
“Keep acting like that, and you’ll see just how dangerous I can get,” Laura warned him, but she was well aware that she did not sound overly confident about this.
The Dark Elf smirked. “Did you really think that you could hide from me?”
“I say yes,” Laura answered him.
You would have to be blind or looking at something completely different, such as a virgin’s eyes, to no see the magnificent display of lights which was displayed as the two spirits merged. It was time to finish the job…
The Dark Elf’s face became grim as he gazed into her eyes.
“Your face was made to be a bird, but instead it came out blurred…” said the Dark Elf, and he watched as Laura’s face became a wonderment to the question mark.
“Now I must leave,” he continued, “and so must you!”
He jabbed his long sword into Laura’s heart and twisted it around, got up and walked into the mist, leaving Laura to her death. The last sound Laura ever heard was that of a Dark Elf devouring a cow.
The Badger Lord stopped laughing. Before him stood a figure which he recognized. It was the spirit of the Shopkeeper, come to finish him off. The spirit accelerated towards him at a great speed, and just before their entities collided the Shopkeeper went into his corporeal form. The Shopkeeper went straight through the Badger Lord’s left lung, and the Badger Lord used his last words to say something in the Badger tongue:
“La prophecie… ...c'était vrai!”
((OOC: Okay, this is basically a slightly enhanced log from when me and some girl Role-Played in Neverwinter Nights. My friend owned the server, and seeing as it was only up for testing anyhow he gave me free reign. I usually Role-Play much more seriously ;)
The dialogue is unedited, apart form a few corrected typos. The story is new, however.))
He was hiding behind a communist as she got off the boat. Then, when she boarded the boat again, he rapidly disassembled the communist and then ran up to maim the lady seafarer.
Newhaven was a remote village just in the centre of three great cities, to which it was connected by a complicated network of ski lifts. Laura hoped that life would prove peaceful in this here village, but she was gravely mistaken…
Out of nowhere leaped a Dark Elf, who bit her in the nose and kicked her in the left kidney (conveniently, space-time’s curvature caused the kidney to be on the Dark Elf’s left as well as Laura’s). Laura fell to the ground and lay there for two minutes. Paralysed she thereafter got back up on her feet.
“Who…?” Laura began to ask, but was interrupted by the Dark Elf’s gentle words.
“DIE!”
“Ah! Please do not hurt me again!” Laura yelled.
“All right, show me your toes!” the Dark Elf compelled.
“M-my toes? W-what for?” Laura stuttered.
“Show me your toes or I shall hurt you!” explained the Dark Elf, screaming in a rather purple manner. “You just be careful! I’m warning you…”
“Oh, yes yes as you wish,” said Laura and took off her last shoe to the left.
The Dark Elf gasped. “So you are the bearer of toes!”
“The what?” Laura implored.
“It is of no importance…” the Dark Elf uttered.
“Tell me!” Laura commanded.
“I am not a slave to she who bears the toes,” the Dark Elf explained, “or vice versa.
But be wary that around any corner, under any horse, somebody may be waiting, and that somebody may be me!” The Dark Elf walked away and disappeared mysteriously.
Laura got off the ship and was assaulted once more by the Dark Elf, who had been hiding behind some boxes. The Dark Elf laughed and ran off. Laura saw him fitting a key into a keyhole (something which she had noticed had become a rapidly growing trend) of a large wooden gate, and then passing through the gate. The gate shut (as is the nature of gates) and a clicking noise assured her that the Dark Elf had locked the gate.
Laura was puzzled. It seemed that the small port was just outside of the village walls, and that the gate was some mode of passage between the village’s outside and its’ inside.
Also on the village’s outside was a small stone house.
Suddenly a voice boomed inside Laura’s head. “Seek the key, for it is the key!” She recognized the voice: It belonged to the Dark Elf!
Driven by female intuition and possibly that sign that said “Get your gate keys here!”, Laura turned her buttocks the opposite direction from the stone house and started making her way in the direction opposite to the direction in which her buttocks were pointing. She entered the house, got a key from the Giver of Keys and exited the building, her inventory’s mass having increased by 10%, which didn’t matter much as she kept her belongings in an incorporeal bag of holding.
The booming voice inside her head spoke to her once more: “The gate is the gate to the place that the gate leads to! Open the gate and the gate shall open!”
“AHA!” exclaimed the Dark Elf, who was waiting be, “So it is true!”
“Is what true?” Laura asked.
“The lady who bears purple shall use her toes to obtain the keys to the gate!”
“If you mean walking then yeah…”
“Then it is just as the forlorn prophets propheted in the days of prophetic prophecies!
It is said that the one dressed in purple shall walk to the house, obtain a key, and open the gate to the place that the gate leads to…”
Laura pushed him aside and ran like a girl, which she was.
“WAIT!” the Dark Elf shouted, but Laura did not seem to care.
“THE LIFE OF THE KEYGIVER IS AT STAKE!”
Laura stopped dead in her tracks, but was quickly resurrected by some sort of ressurective force. She turned to look at the Dark Elf.
“Only you can save the Keygiver!”
“Who is the Keygiver?” laura asked.
“The one who gave you that key,” the Dark Elf answered.
“Who is threatening him?”
“Tell me: Wouldst thou be willing to sacrificeth thine virginity to save him?”
Laura was not a virgin, but she was not aware of this, and thus figured that this was possible. “From Death?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Laura wondered if perhaps this was the reason for which she had sent herself to Newhaven – to save the Keygiver’s life, that is, not to lose her virginity.
“I … I guess so…” she stuttered confidently.
The Dark Elf’s jaw dropped slightly.
“Ah, so it is true! It is said that the toe-bearer would be a virgin…”
The Dark Elf scratched his chin and then continued:
“Do not worry, you may keep your virginity. The Keygiver must die all the same.”
“You are confusing me,” said Laura.
“Such is the way of the order of confusors. I am not one of them, but such are their ways…”
“Bye bye,” Laura said, and walked off.
“Badgers?” the Dark Elf said questioningly. “What about badgers?”
He ran up to her and she turned to face them.
“What about them,” she asked.
“You mentioned badgers, did you not?”
“I have to say no.”
“Odd … so it is true…
Badgers rule this realm now, appearing in all different shapes, sizes and genders, and it is said that when questioned about them by a Dark Elf the virgin shall deny them…”
The “virgin” in question ran off whilst the Dark Elf was rubbing his eyelids (as Dark Elves often do when they’re trying to remember something), and the Dark Elf laughed wickedly.
Laura ran, like a feebleminded parrot she did! She ran and she ran until she found an abandoned Hobbit hole in which she hid.
Then when she figured the Dark Elf had lost her, that booming voice echoed once more in her head. “The last chairs have all but fallen, and so the bartender’s time is nigh!”
She was not quite sure what to do, but she saw a pillar of light emitting from somewhere not too far away, and she figured that this must be a sign.
In his underground lair the Badger Lord plotted his evil plots. He had once in the past been humiliated by the Shopkeeper, but before his last lair came tumbling down upon him he had managed to split the Shopkeeper in two, and alone neither of the two stood a chance against the Badger Lord. The Badger Lord neighed chippishly and breathed a heavy sigh. Soon there would be nobody who could stand in his way.
She was getting closer to the pillar of light, and she saw that it was centred on a wooden house. The booming voice seemed to be coming from there:
“Only seven stools stand in the Dark One’s way now!”
Laura ran faster, even though she could feel her energy being drained from her as juice is drained from an orange.
She entered the house and turned immediately to her right, just in time to see the Dark Elf down the bartender with his short sword. The Dark Elf laughed. He turned towards a stool which stood to his left.
“Come the death of the bartender, come the death of the eighth stool, whilst the virgin besits it!”
Laura had come close to him, and he grabbed her by her arm and forced her to sit. Having done this he swung his sword towards the chair which was reduced to splinters. Laura had no time to react on this and fell to the ground. The Dark Elf spoke onto her: “Now, virgin toe-bearer, I shalt shaveth thine head!” He laughed, but stopped abruptly and turned towards the door. “THE DOOR!” He extracted a key from his pocket and headed towards the door, but stopped a few yards from it.
“Odd…” he said, “…the door is sending out hair-growing magical rays!”
Laura tried to get past the Dark Elf, but he held her fast by her turtle-neck, and yelled straight into her face, and saliva rained horizontally on Laura’s face.
“YOU CANNOT FLEE!
Can you not see, there is a sea, with wind and waves and hard debris!
And in this sea, there is a tree, in which live the monkeys three!
The virgin bearing toes at last, must hurry there faster than fast,
for if she doesn’t her toes shall be no more, and she shall become but and endangered s’more!”
“YOU’RE A MADMAN!” screamed Laura and managed to break free of his grip and escape through the door. She was however foolish enough to leave the door open, and thus the Dark Elf could follow her, no longer hindered by hair-growing magical rays.
“WOULD A MADMAN CACKLE LOUDLY!?” he yelled. “I AM NOT MAD! THE GRASS IS MAD!”
Day had become night by that time, and the dead spirits were coming out to play. There were two new dead spirits in Newhaven, and they were drawn towards each other...
A long-haired human is no match for a toeless Dark Elf when it comes to running, and the Dark Elf caught up to Laura and pinned her down to the ground. His voice became gentle in a manic way, and he uttered the following words:
“Your necklace, it is a forge,
Your left foot, a fishing rod,
Your long hair, the death of many Gnomes,
Your every step a step in one direction!”
“Keep acting like that, and you’ll see just how dangerous I can get,” Laura warned him, but she was well aware that she did not sound overly confident about this.
The Dark Elf smirked. “Did you really think that you could hide from me?”
“I say yes,” Laura answered him.
You would have to be blind or looking at something completely different, such as a virgin’s eyes, to no see the magnificent display of lights which was displayed as the two spirits merged. It was time to finish the job…
The Dark Elf’s face became grim as he gazed into her eyes.
“Your face was made to be a bird, but instead it came out blurred…” said the Dark Elf, and he watched as Laura’s face became a wonderment to the question mark.
“Now I must leave,” he continued, “and so must you!”
He jabbed his long sword into Laura’s heart and twisted it around, got up and walked into the mist, leaving Laura to her death. The last sound Laura ever heard was that of a Dark Elf devouring a cow.
The Badger Lord stopped laughing. Before him stood a figure which he recognized. It was the spirit of the Shopkeeper, come to finish him off. The spirit accelerated towards him at a great speed, and just before their entities collided the Shopkeeper went into his corporeal form. The Shopkeeper went straight through the Badger Lord’s left lung, and the Badger Lord used his last words to say something in the Badger tongue:
“La prophecie… ...c'était vrai!”
((OOC: Okay, this is basically a slightly enhanced log from when me and some girl Role-Played in Neverwinter Nights. My friend owned the server, and seeing as it was only up for testing anyhow he gave me free reign. I usually Role-Play much more seriously ;)
The dialogue is unedited, apart form a few corrected typos. The story is new, however.))